


Ross's Grimmons Hoard

by boyslushie



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Additional tags will be added, Alcohol, Angst, Birthday Presents, Blood, Coming Out, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Drabbles, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, First Date, Fluff, Hospitals, Kissing, Knives, Love Confessions, M/M, Makeout Session, Making Out, Marriage Proposal, War, Weddings, affectionate yelling, birthday surprise, but there's two in particular that are angst as all hell, date, grif is really on the ball when it comes to consent and boundaries, more coffee, most of the chapters are fluffy and not violent/sad, near death expirience, romantic dinner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:59:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boyslushie/pseuds/boyslushie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a bunch of inconsistent grimmons drabbles because these idiots own my heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caught Orange Handed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simmons really missed Grif.

Simmons picked up his mug, going in for another sip only to realize that the cup was entirely empty, he turned it upside down in his hand and shook it, not a drop of coffee falling out onto the table. He huffed and got up to refill it only to find that all of the contents of the formerly nearly full coffee pot were missing. He scowled and walked into the TV room where Grif was sitting on the couch drinking his own coffee.

"Dude, did you take the rest of the coffee?" he questioned from the doorway with a slight tone of annoyance. Grif shook his head, swallowing a gulp of coffee before answering

"Sarge used that huge ass 'Best Sargent' mug he got at the Christmas party, and Donut took whatever was left, which I doubt was very much considering the way Sarge is." Simmons scoffed, rubbed at the bags under his eyes, and walked up to the couch, dropping into the seat next to him and resting his head against his shoulder, pouting with his arms crossed.

"Somebody's grumpy this morning, you're usually all about mornings. Are you alright?" Grif prodded, a little concerned that the other was upset.

"Just couldn't sleep well last night." he responded, face going red. Grif cracked a smile, recognizing the back handed affection he was now receiving. He had been gone the whole past week for special training that Sarge forced him to enroll in as some sort of ridiculous punishment, barely returning that morning and falling immediately back into the usual routine.

"Awh, I knew you missed me!" Grif teased, making Simmons' blush darken and scowl angrier. Grif just laughed at the maroon soldier who was now huddled into himself, leaning against his broad shoulder. Simmons couldn't stand the wide grin on Grif's stupid face, and he knew just how to wipe it off of him. He grabbed Grif by the cheeks, pulling his face forward just a bit, and right as he was about to ask what exactly Simmons was trying to do, Simmons pressed his lips against Grif's. Grif's eyes went wide in shock, blush rushing to his cheeks, but he went with it, closing his eyes and letting himself lean in and press back against Simmons. Simmons physically relaxed, finally, moving his hands to the back of Grif's neck comfortably. Simmons parted his lips, in a hesitant attempt to deepen the kiss, when suddenly loud clunky footsteps marched into the room, Sarge yelling something about one of the Blues being stuck on a rather tall rock, only to find the two face locked in the living room. He stopped dead in his tracks with a gasp, and the pair realized who had just walked in on them. They broke the kiss, eyes wide and worried, both blushing intensely out of both humiliation and the fact that they were just making out on the couch. Sarge just coughed awkwardly, twitching a little as the three tried to figure out how to approach this.

"I- uhm..." Simmons started through heavy breaths, not knowing what he was going to say, but just his luck, Sarge cut in.

"Simmons, did I order you to subject Grif to punishment?" he demanded.

"Uh... No, Sir?" Simmons responded, brow furrowing. Sarge just grunted, giving Simmons a curt nod.

"Good work, Private. Acting on your own." Sarge affirmed, walking back out of the room. Simmons watched him with a confused stare, before turning back to Grif who simply shrugged before practically diving on top of Simmons, both men giggling as they continued their kissing session.


	2. Thank You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simmons gets shot several times during a battle, Grif saves him by sheer determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!! This chapter is r e a l l y bloody and super angsty but it's got a happy ending!

Simmons clutched at Grif's armor, both hands a bloodied mess that slicked his armor too much for him to actually be able to grasp at anything without quickly loosing it. He was making a mess of his chest plate but Grif couldn't be bothered as he ran as fast as he could towards the jeep, dodging bullets and trying his best not to trip or lose time getting there. He needed to get Simmons back to the base and in the arms of Dr. Grey and he needed to do it fast, before Simmons bled out all over him and died in his arms, staining the orange armor as red as Sarge's.  
"Simmons! Stay with me buddy, c'mon. Don't lose consciousnesses on me." Grif panicked, only feet from the parked and damaged vehicle, It would have to do. Simmons' robotic eye flashed as it moved rapidly, taking in as much of the battle as he could as he was being carried hastily away from it.  
"G-Grif, my team, they-"  
"They'll be ok, Simmons. You're the one dying." Grif said with tears in his eyes, trying not to let thoughts of actually LOSING the man in his arms get to him. He huffed, taking deep breaths as he laid Simmons down in the seat next to him, hopping in the drivers seat and taking off as fast as he was able, bee lining straight for the New Republic base. He radioed the medical station, ordering Dr. Grey to get set up for a badly injured Simmons.  
"Grif, am I gonna die?" Simmons asked, his voice weak, broken and fearful. Grif's bottom lip trembled at this, he tried to come up with something to say but he couldn't bring himself to, as he knew the moment he opened his mouth there would be tears, and he really didn't want to crash the car right now.  
"Grif?" He asked again, somehow not even realizing that the pair was in a moving vehicle, and the upset man next to him, covered in his best friend's blood, was driving.  
"Yeah, Simmons?" Grif responded, trying his hardest to keep his voice calm and level.  
"I-if I don't make it-" He paused, raising his arm to cough blood into his fist. "If I don't make it, I need you to know something." Grif gripped the steering wheel tighter, he almost felt like the 12 year old stitches that had sewn Simmons' donated grafts of pale freckled skin to his own contrasting dark skin were going to tear. Now was not the time for this confession.  
"You're going to make it, as long as I have anything to do with it." Grif said stubbornly.  
"Grif." Simmons stressed, tone dropping to be as serious as it could get. Grif was definitely about to cry again, and Simmons knew it. He had to say something before it was too late.  
"Grif... I love you. I didn't at first, but it didn't take long to figure out how much you meant to me and how head over heels I had fallen for every little thing about you. And if there's any last thing I could possibly say or do, I really want you to at least know that, it's something to remember me by." Simmons sputtered in a soft tone. Grif was definitely crying.  
"I know you love me, dumbass! I love you too, which is why I'm going to get you to that damn hospital, and that's exactly why you're not going to fucking DIE on me!" Grif yelled, unable to contain the storm of emotions brewing inside of him. Simmons looked shocked. He had already used so much of his remaining energy to tell Grif his feelings, it was difficult to register what he had just told him with all the blood loss. The last thing he remembered before he passed out was staring at Grif's hands, wondering how they would feel in his own, and smiling to himself.

When he came to, Grif was right there at his side. A look of relief and joy and fondness overcame Grif's worried features, and before he could process what was going on or where he was, Grif was pulling him into a tight hug, careful not to detach any wires.  
"You dumb nerd, you had me so fucking scared." Grif said, tears streaming down his face. Suddenly, the memories came flooding back to Simmons and he remembered everything that had taken place after he had been shot. He remembered not being able to get far away enough from the sniper who had nicked him, how he had ended up with five bullets lodged deep in various parts of his cyborg body, how he had confessed his undying love to Grif, and of course, how Grif had reciprocated. His face turned beet red.  
"G-Grif? Did you really mean... Do you actually love me back?" Simmons asked hesitantly.  
"Of course I do, you idiot. And look, I stuck to my word. You're in the damn hospital, alive and well." Grif smirked, not exactly the way he always did, because it was never this fond, never with this much eye contact. Simmons smiled back and laid his head back against the pillow with a sigh. He shut his eyes for a moment, opening when he saw shadows moving behind his eyelids, only to see Grif hovering over him with a cocky grin.  
"What, no 'Thank you?' I saved your ass out there." Grif complained. Simmons rolled his eyes before coming up with an idea. He sat up as best he could, looking Grif right in the eyes.  
"Well how about this?" He asked before pushing his face against Grif's, pressing there lips together tenderly, Grif's scruff tickling his face, making him smile into the kiss more than he already was. Grif pressed back, placing his hands on Simmons' neck and upper back to pull him in closer, Simmons moved his hands up to rest on Grif's soft but firm upper chest. After nearly two minutes, Grif slowly pulled back.  
"I'll take it."


	3. Morning Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simmons is up early, Grif stays up with him.

Grif groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes after a loud “CLANG!” from the kitchen had woken him up. The base was insufferably hot, making him glad he had decided to go without a shirt. Grif slapped his hand around on the nearby desk, attempting to find the obnoxious alarm clock Sarge had put in their room. He found it, grabbing it and pressing the top button to light the tiny digital screen up blue.  
“1:58 AM. What the actual fuck, Simmons?” Grif mumbled under his breath, tired and exasperated. He huffed as he pulled his covers off of himself and shuffled down the halls into the kitchen. Simmons was standing by the coffee maker, measuring the water he was planning to put in by the light of two of Donut’s sugar scented candles, it’s not like he didn’t have any to spare. Simmons glanced back for a moment in acknowledgment of Grif’s feet and the bottoms of his sweatpants scraping quietly against the concrete floor. Simmons was unphased when Grif rested against his back, hands sliding to his waist and lazily wrapping around him. He continued filling the machine with the exact amount of water and coffee grounds, movements hardly restricted aside from the fact that Grif’s loose grip was tugging his tank top down some. He started it up and turned around in the other’s arms to rest his head on top of Grif’s.   
“What the hell’s got you up this early?” the Hawaiian asked, slowly rocking as they stood there together in the middle of Red Base’s kitchen.   
“Couldn’t sleep, I figured I’d read a bit and get some extra reports done for Sarge.” He shrugged, the typical Simmons answer not surprising Grif in the least. Grif just kind of nodded and sunk deeper into the embrace. For a few minutes, they stayed there in the silence, tired and content together. The coffee maker stopped pouring liquid and the indicator light flashed a bright green to signify the drink was finished. Grif let him go to pour himself a cup and grab sweeteners and milk.  
“You want any, babe?” Simmons offered. Grif nodded, and Simmons to grabbed another mug. He made it extra sweet with whipped cream, just the way the other liked it. Simmons held the mug out to Grif with a smile and he graciously accepted. He leaned in to kiss Simmons, catching the corner of his mouth, before going in for a sip of coffee. The gesture caused the cyborg to blush, not that he hadn’t been already, but he was more than used to it. The pair sat themselves on the floor, Simmons picking up his fantasy novel that he’d brought with him, Grif could swear he had read that thing from cover to cover at least 18 times since they were stationed here, and while it was incredibly nerdy, it was also just one of those endearing little things about Simmons. Grif watched the redhead’s eyes scan the pages, facial expressions shifting as he got lost in the story. Meanwhile, Grif was getting lost in Simmons’ features. He didn’t realize the fond look on his face as he stared, not until Simmons took notice and glanced up from his book, blush rapidly overcoming his face. He gave Grif a shy smile, and the other giggled and bowed his head, attempting to hide his grinning face behind the mass of dark wavy hair. He leaned back against the cabinets, round features glowing in the dim candle light. Simmons’ eyes, human and glowing mechanical, stared into his own heterochromatic ones. He set down the book in favor of crawling over to lean against the larger man. Grif sighed through his nose, lovestruck smile and unfaltering gaze making Simmons’ chest stir with warm emotion. He turned to kiss Grif on the lips, Grif gladly accepting and returning the heartfelt gesture by pressing back. They both tasted like coffee, Grif’s mouth far sweeter, and Simmons savoring every bit of it. They broke off after a minute or so, Simmons returning to leaning against Grif’s soft chest and belly.   
“Hun, if you’re up to it, would you maybe read me some of your book?” Grif requested. Simmons’ face light up, even his robotic green eye glowing brighter than it had been. Simmons was quick to flip to the part of the book Grif liked best, beginning to narrate the scene where the romantic interest was introduced. After nearly fifty minutes of reading, Simmons realized that Grif had fallen asleep, as he had inferred from the quiet snores. He yawned and stretched, realizing that the coffee had done nothing as he was about ready to doze off as well. And that he did, to the sound of Grif’s breathing with his head slumped against his lover’s chest and his book splayed open next to their empty mugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donut found them like that the next morning, mildly annoyed that Simmons had taken his candles again without asking, but he didn’t dare wake the sleeping pair as he flitted around the kitchen preparing breakfast. That hadn’t stopped him from taking a few pictures though.


	4. I Bet You Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all really need to stop making bets.

“Damnit!” Simmons yelped, scowling at Grif who had actually managed to pin him to the wall, blade pressed flat against the base of his throat. Simmons’ face went entirely red, and Grif just smirked, lowering the knife and folding it back up before tossing it off the side, the sheathed knife hitting the wall of the training room. He turned back to look Simmons in the eye, leaning close to his ear.  
“I win, fucker.” he whispered. Simmons shoved him away and rolled his eyes, snorting at Grif’s protests. He started walking away, until he was jerked back by the strong force of Grif’s arms around his waist. Simmons’ blush only grew, they were both insanely lucky nobody else was in the training room. It didn’t stop him from being tense, though, as he struggled to break free of Grif’s affectionate death grip. He pushed down with his hands, attempting to propel himself forward, making a series of frustrated grunts as Grif just pulled him closer to himself. Eventually Simmons gave in, with a huff. Grif smiled wide and squeezed him a bit, arms still wrapped around the taller. Simmons smiled and rolled his eyes, attempting to turn himself around to face Grif.  
“Fine, asshole. But does it have to be in here? What if somebody sees us?” he asked cautiously, not wanting to deal with their teams spreading more rumors, there had already been enough in the way of close calls.  
“Well, I brought the speaker in here with me and there’s a lot more room, so…. Yes.” Grif smirked. A slight worry overcame Simmons as Grif took his hand in his own, leading him over to where he had placed the large speaker, releasing his grip only to hook up to his phone. As Grif scrolled through his playlists, Simmons mentally swore up and down that he’d never make another bet with Grif in his life. He found whatever he was looking for and clicked until notes began pouring from the speaker. Simmons gulped, eyes frantically sweeping the room while Grif offered his hand.  
“May I have this dance?” He asked smugly. Simmons couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he placed his robotic hand in Grif’s palm. His human arm was shaking slightly, and he was doing his best to keep both eyes trained on Grif.  
“Hun, relax. Nobody's gonna walk in on us, and even if they do, do you really think they’re going to judge? We’ll be alright.” the hawaiian spoke softly, reassuring Simmons as he twirled him around the room. Simmons relaxed a bit, loosening his muscles and taking a deep breath as he settles into the dance, allowing himself to melt into the arms of his boyfriend.  
“Thanks Grif.” He mumbled quietly. They went silent for a while, listening only to the music and the sound of each other’s breathing as they swayed together. Simmons had finally let go, completely relaxed with a hand on Grif’s lower back, and the other hanging in the air, clasped in Grif’s. Grif had his other hand on Simmons’ shoulder and their foreheads were pressed together, eyes shut in a moment of contentedness. Simmons was the first to break the moment, slowly opening his eyes and tilting his head just barely off of Grif’s. Grif’s eyes fluttered open to give Simmons a quizzical look before Simmons pressed his lips tenderly against Grif’s. They both smiled, still swaying to the calm music while they kissed. Grif sighed as they parted, a small, lopsided, blissful smile playing on his lips as he looked into his lover’s eyes with as much affection as a person could muster. His eyes flicked to something moving in the corner of the room for just a moment and his body went tense. His sudden reaction startled Simmons who was quick to look behind him, only to see Palomo sitting on a bench in the back corner of the room by the door holding what looked to be a video camera. Simmons jumped and let out a high pitched squeal, face heating quicker than a struck match. Grif’s expression went from one of surprise to anger, he lowered his hands, releasing Simmons’ as he he walked up to Palomo with an intimidating glare. Palomo scrambled out of his seat and made a mad dash out the door before Grif could reach him and was immediately chased through the hall, Tucker, Jensen and Bitters hidden around the corner from the training room, snickering.  
“Remind me never to make any bets with you.” Bitters stated, shaking his head as he looked at Tucker, who was trying to contain his laughter at Palomo’s screams.  
“I lost a bet with Tucker, He put me up to it! If you’re gonna pummel anybody, it should be him!” Palomo shouted from down the hall, voice muffled by the walls. They were all going to be sorry very soon.


	5. A Perfect Fit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU where they met at a cafe!

Grif fiddled with the straw of his coffee cup, swirling around the whipped cream on top nervously. Simmons raised an eyebrow and settled back in the little iron chair. It was a beautiful morning, Grif had asked him if he had wanted to go to his favorite cafe, the very cafe they had met at, for breakfast, and Simmons was happy to agree, but seeing how Grif was acting made him nervous. He took a bite of his bagel and shuffled his feet, looking around at the small amount of people filling up seats at the tables, warm sun filtering through the umbrellas and trees that surrounded outside of the fence. The patio was just cool enough, a light summer’s breeze wafting over them. And yet Grif was sweating bullets. His actions were incredibly unusual, Simmons was usually the anxious one, what on Earth did Grif have to be so worried about?  
“Hun, are you feeling alright? You don’t look so hot.” Simmons said gently, laying his hand flatly over Grif’s. Grif smiled, nerves settling ever so slightly.  
“I always look hot and you know it. I’m fine.” Grif cracked back. Simmons giggled and shook his head, he was worrying over nothing.  
“If you say so, I’m gonna do grab more napkins.” Simmons replied before standing. Grif’s eyes followed after with a loving smile, one that he got every time he heard his lover laugh, no matter how long they’d known one another. He quickly checked that Simmons was out of sight and pulled out his phone, sending a hurried text to Donut.  
‘Grif: Dude, he’s inside, hurry up!!!!’ and in a matter of seconds, his phone buzzed a reply.  
‘Donut: on it! i'm already behind the trees, signal me when you’re ready! <3’ came the reply. Grif sighed in relief, he knew Donut was the best person to ask for help with this ridiculous plan of his. Grif gulped as Simmons walked back out, taking a deep breath to calm the nervousness swelling in his throat. He had a huge grin plastered to his face as Simmons sat back down. Simmons grinned back, albeit confused. Grif could only keep mentally reassuring himself, preparing for the huge step he was about to take. Grif quickly hit send on the message that he had typed out preemptively before he had another second to doubt himself. He slipped his phone into his pocket and waited until Donut walked through the small gate in the fence holding a giant bouquet of hand-picked flowers, all in shades of red. Grif bit down on his lip and swallowed his fear, standing up from the table and pulling Simmons up too. Simmons panicked for a second, looking inquisitively at Grif, not even having noticed Donut yet. Grif took a shaky breath, face almost completely flushed as he began the lines he had been rehearsing to say.  
“Simmons, my dearest, the sweetest person I could ever ask for the pleasure of even knowing, you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me…” He began to trail off, straying from his intended speech.  
“We met in this exact spot twelve years ago, and that’s just fucking insane, to think we’ve known each other for so long, to think that for ten of those years we’ve been together and you still manage to make me feel like I did the first time we kissed, the first time we ever said ‘I love you’. Shit, I never thought I’d ever meet someone like you, lord knows I don’t deserve you, but here we are, still holding on after all this time.” He paused, signalling for Donut to hand him the flowers. Simmons’ eyes went wide, smile never faltering as he took them gently in his arms. He honestly looked like he was about to cry, and Grif probably didn’t look much different.  
“I don’t know how you do it, but you make me feel so alive, so joyful, like there’s not a single negative thing in the world, and I wouldn’t dare have it any other way. I love you so, so much, Dick. Which is why I wanted to ask you, as I have for so long…” Hi began to lower himself to the ground, bending his knee and fumbling in his pocket for a small, maroon colored velvet box. Simmons gasped as he opened it, and Donut clapped gleefully at the sight. Grif held it up a bit closer to Simmons, revealing a shining silver ring adorned with rubies and a swirling, intricate design of roses.  
“Will you marry me?” And that was it, Simmons burst into tears, hugging the flowers tightly. Donut stepped back, letting the two have their moment as he cried to himself, grinning in their shared love and joy.  
“Oh, Dex! Yes yes, of course I want to marry you, idiot!” Simmons gushed, dropping the flowers on the table and pulling Grif up, clinging to him tightly, kissing all over his face not minding the salty taste of tears as they both cried happily. Applause erupted from the people seated both in the restaurant and out on the patio. Grif held Simmons' shoulders at an arm’s length for a moment, pulling up his hand to slip the ring on his fourth finger. It looked so perfect on him, so natural, like it had always belonged there. Simmons stared at it with glossy eyes, a big fond smile on his face as he pulled Grif back in for a proper kiss.


	6. A Moment In The Shade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small moment of peace for a couple of worn soldiers.

“Hey, if you hadn’t gotten us fucking lost we wouldn’t be in this mess! You’re supposed to be good at this kind of stuff, aren’t you part GPS or something?!” Grif shouted, causing Simmons to lose his patience. He jumped out of the jeep and walked off towards the cliff, sitting down in the dried up grass against the wall of the hill. Grif leaned his head against the steering wheel and sighed deeply. Getting back was going to be hell without a proper sense of direction. This moon was a lot bigger than he had thought. 

He sat like that, just thinking for ten minutes, before it occurred to him that he should go check up on Simmons. He hopped out of the car, trudging over to the place where Simmons was seated, and took the spot next to him. 

“I’m sorry.” Grif said softly. Simmons took of his helmet and set it in his lap, running a hand through his messy ginger hair before resting his head against Grif’s shoulder. 

“It’s fine. It was my fault we got lost anyways. I’ve just been really overwhelmed lately.” Simmons sighed. Grif had left his helmet in the jeep fortunately, and Simmons was thankful for the clear view of his face. Grif smirked as Simmons lovingly traced his face with his eyes.

“What, being war heroes with a moon all to ourselves too much for you?” Grif asked teasingly.  
Simmons smiled back and punched him in the arm, shifting so that he could sit up on his knees. He moved himself so he could fully lay against Grif’s front, with no protest from the orange clad soldier. 

“Well… yeah. That coupled with the sheer trauma and loss of war. Being part robot doesn’t make processing all this any easier.” Simmons replied. Grif’s expression softened and he nodded, wrapping his arms around the other. Simmons turned his head to place a gentle kiss to Grif’s cheek. Grif’s smile only grew at this.

“At least there’s one constant in my life.” Simmons said, shifting to fully face Grif. Grif pulled Simmons closer, his grip loose around his hips, and Simmons draped his arms around Grif’s neck, leaning in close, until their lips met in a tender kiss. Grif sighed contently, breathing easier than ever with his lover up against him, as face to face as they could possibly get. Life seemed so much better without anything to really fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooo i haven't written anything RvB in months, so here's an addition to my Grimmons short stories to get the ball rolling again!


	7. Birthdate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grif surprises Simmons for his bitrhday.

Grif was starting to get nervous. Couldn’t he have thought of something better to do for Simmons? This was sure to be a shitty birthday if Simmons didn’t reciprocate his feelings… Maybe he could just enjoy a nice dinner. And the candles. And the roses. Oh God what had he been thinking?

In reality, it was too late to turn back. The kitchen staff was very generous and helpful in the preparation of that night’s dinner. And Donut had already helped him procure the flowers and candles. Grif had also spent so long hunting down fancy dinnerware and a nice table cloth and, hell even the table was scrap from an abandoned town they had searched a few weeks back. He’d been planning this for nearly a month, it would just be a waste of time and effort to scrap the dinner last minute and give Simmons nothing for his birthday. Again. 

It was 8:00 PM, if Simmons properly followed the instructions on the note Grif had left on the desk in their shared room, he should be in the dining hall any moment. He waited. And waited. And waited. He checked the time, 8:17. It wasn’t like Simmons to be late for anything. He wondered if Simmons hadn’t gotten the note. Or maybe he just hadn’t bothered to show up. He slumped in his seat a little bit. If Simmons didn’t show up in the next fifteen minutes, Grif was going to give up. Maybe he could just stick a bow on the wine bottle and call it a gift. 

Grif perked up when he heard the door squeak on its hinges as the cyborg pushed it open a minute later. He was dressed in dark sweatpants and a grey shirt that loosely hung from his frame.

“Dude, you really need to work on your handwriting, I thought you said training h…” Simmons trailed off as he noticed the table. Grif could see him squinting at the arrangement Grif had set up and approached warily.

“Grif? What’s all this?” Simmons asked, clearly confused by the rather date-like setup Grif was seated at. Grif grinned at him, a soft grin that Simmons had hardly ever seen on his friend’s face.

“Happy birthday, loser.” Grif said with a laugh. Simmons’ eyes lit up, his green eye flashing brighter for a moment.

“Shit, that is today isn’t it?” Simmons asked mostly to himself as he took a seat at the table. With the whole war going on around them, Simmons had kinda forgotten about checking the calendar. Grif scoffed at him, giving him a teasing smirk.

“Did you really forget your own birthday? I thought you were all about schedules or whatever. Y’know, nerd stuff.” Grif snickered. Simmons cracked a smile and shook his head. He was too awed by the amount of effort Grif had put into the dinner he had put together. For him, on his birthday. He was a little concerned about the dimmed lights and the candles, the implications were making him blush ever so slightly, but he was sure that Grif was just trying to save power. Or something. 

“I’m surprised, Grif. I’ve never seen you do anything like this before.” Simmons complimented. “It looks great.” Grif tried to hide the blush that came from Simmons’ praise. Instead he focused on the next part of the gift: food.

“Well, it’ s about to get a whole lot better.” Grif smiled. He whistled loudly, and one of kitchen staff members walked out with a tray holding two wine flutes and two plates. Whatever was on those dishes smelled heavenly, and it was making Simmons’ mouth water. Their “waiter” set down the plates and glasses in front of them, winked, and walked back out of the room. Simmons tried to ignore the way the wink made him question the intentions behind this dinner. Simmons could feel his face heating up as he wondered if maybe this was a date. Simmons looked down at his plate to see a pile of noodles, vegetables, and shrimp. 

“Grif, you got them to make shrimp scampi?!” Simmons said with excitement. Apparently Grif had remembered it was his favorite childhood food. A pop sounded and rang off the walls as Grif opened up a rather tall bottle of wine.

“Well, you always say how much you liked it as a kid, and that you haven’t had it in like ten years.” Grif shrugged. Simmons didn’t even wait for Grif to finish pouring the wine to dig in. He took one bite and it was like he had just stepped back into his childhood. Grif watched Simmons eat with a fond expression, only for his stomach to growl, signalling that maybe he should eat too. Needless to say, they both finished their dinners off quickly, as if they had been starving. 

Simmons hadn’t even touched the wine yet, so he picked up the glass and took a sip. He grimaced at how cheap it tasted, but he supposed that not _everything_ could be perfect. He drank it anyways, it’s not like they got alcohol on Chorus everyday. He could barely start to feel the warmth of the alcohol in his stomach, and he sighed. When he properly looked up, Grif was staring at him almost dreamily. Simmons’ cheeks flushed, and he wanted to bury his face, hide from that intent gaze. Grif snapped out of it quickly and poured himself and Simmons some more wine, acting like he had done nothing. Simmons contemplated for a second before speaking just what it was that had been running through his mind the past twenty minutes.

“So is this… like a date or something?” He chuckled nervously, his cheeks still red. Grif gulped and stared ahead at Simmons, trying to come up with some excuse to say that it’s not, but he couldn’t think of anything.

“I- I guess. If you want it to be.” Grif responded awkwardly, blush permeating his own cheeks as well. Simmons wasn’t sure how to respond. Did he want it to be a date? Did _Grif_ want it to be a date?

“I… think maybe I do want this to be a date. Maybe. If you want it to be one?” Simmons asked, his flesh hand shaking a little. Grif smiled back and covered his hand with his own. Simmons’ hand calmed down, as the breath left his lungs in surprise.

“Then it’s a date.” Grif told him. Simmons’ face flushed, he beamed at Grif for a moment, until he found himself yawning into the back of his loose fist.

“You ready for bed, birthday boy?” Grif teased, getting up from the table to turn up the lights. Simmons stood up too and blew out the candles. When he turned back around, Grif was holding out the quarter empty bottle of wine and a bouquet of red roses adorned with a big orange bow. Simmons’ smile grew as he accepted the gifts. He took them in one arm, gently grasping for Grif’s hand as he started to walk out of the dining hall. 

“Maybe we don’t have to go to bed right away. We’ve still got all this wine left, and we still have that VHS of Star Wars from a few weeks ago.” Simmons offered. Grif squeezed his hand tight.

“I think I’d like that.” Grif replied. Their conversation turned to a comfortable silence for a while as they walked down the hall back to their shared room. Simmons hesitated before opening the door. 

“Thank you, for all of this tonight.” Simmons said, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Of course. Happy birthday, Simmons.” Grif smiled, tugging Simmons down a little to place a kiss on his cheek before opening the door and walking inside. Simmons stood there for a moment, blushing in realization of the fact that Grif’s lips had just made romantic contact with his face.

Happy birthday indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYYY ITS MY BIRTHDAY! lmao the best segway into becoming an adult is obviously writing grimmons fanfiction. anyway its 1 am and i'm sleep deprived so this one probably sucked. oh well.


	8. Wedding Announcements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a dance can lead to a little more, and sometimes you dance at your friends' wedding.

The music poured over the dance floor, Donut did have excellent taste in wedding music. “A Thousand Years” was an oldie in the oldest sense of the word, but Simmons was getting choked up as Doc pulled Donut out into the middle of the dance floor and swayed to the music. He felt his mechanical lungs click as they convinced him to breathe steadily. He shifted his gaze to the man next to him, slightly shorter and far more heavyset, but as close to tears as he was in this beautiful moment. His mind flashed scenarios in which he and Grif were the ones out on that dance floor, both in perfect pressed tuxedos, surrounded by friends and family. 

Next thing he knew, Grif had his hand in his own, dragging him out into the middle where a few couples had started dancing, Doc and Donut still dancing in the middle but encouraging others to dance too. 

“Simmons, c’mon dude! It’s not everyday you get to dance at your friend’s wedding.” Grif bargained. Simmons wanted to protest but he couldn’t find it in his heart to do it. It’s not like he didn’t want this as it was. Instead he sighed and gave in with a smile, allowing Grif to lead him. 

“Alright, alright. Just this one song.” Simmons compromised. When they stopped, he hesitantly placed his hands in Grif’s, standing closer than he had imagined, following his steps clumsily. 

As the melody continued, the easier it got to fall into the rhythm and just let Grif guide him. Simmons couldn’t think of the last time he had smiled this much, staring into Grif’s heterochromatic eyes, one of which he used to think of as his own, but he knows now, he’s given a lot of himself to Grif, quite literally. Neither of those eyes are his, they’re Grif’s, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Simmons took a moment to be daring and lead Grif in a swooping motion, spinning around a few times before holding his arm out for him to twirl, bowing and bringing him back in. 

Grif nearly lost his footing in surprise of how smoothly Simmons had just pulled off that move. He laughed a little and continued their dance, dipping Simmons as the song came to an end. Simmons couldn’t tell if it was a spur of the moment decision or if he had drank more wine than he had thought, but in the next moment his lips were on Grif’s, which wouldn’t have been a problem if they weren’t surrounded by nearly everyone they’ve known within the past two decades. He felt his heart rate pick up in a panic, but Grif didn’t pull away, which told Simmons that maybe this wasn’t so bad. His pulse slowed back down a little and he shut his eyes again. 

When Grif lifted him back up, the room was quiet, and he looked straight ahead to see Donut staring at him with wide eyes and a huge grin. Simmons grimaced as Tucker called out “I KNEW IT!” and he noticed the movement of Sarge pulling a few bills from his wallet. 

“Awh, you guys! I’m so honored you decided to reveal yourselves at our wedding!” Donut bubbled, making the whole room cringe at his wording. In a matter of moments, half of the room seemed to lose interest and continued dancing and chatting, the music still playing in the background. 

Doc and Donut approached the pair who were still gripping each other in nervous embarrassment, smiling cheerfully as ever. Doc looked like he was trying not to laugh. 

“Congratulations you two!” Donut beamed. Grif smiled and laughed.

“Donut, it’s your wedding, shouldn’t we be congratulating the two of you?” Simmons asked, blush spread across his cheeks. Donut covered his mouth as if he was bashful about the praise.

“Awh, Simmons! Thank you! But we’ve been waiting for this for the past eighteen years! Of _course_ I’m going to celebrate the two of you finally getting together!” Donut squealed in joy. 

“Well….” Grif started before Simmons shot him a death glare. But it was too late, Donut’s keen senses about relationships had already caught on and he looked about ready to burst.

“Wait wait wait, you two we’re already a thing?!” He asked excitedly. He was bouncing on his heels and Simmons wondered if it would be somehow possible to completely evaporate and disappear from the room. Realizing this wasn’t an option, he instead sighed and nodded in defeat. Grif sighed too, but it had been inevitable that they would find out. 

“And before you ask, it’s been about two years. I’m surprised no one ever really caught on.” Grif chimed in, face turning to concern when Donut and his husband shared a knowing glance.

“Well, not to burst your bubble, but… Everyone kind of already knew.” Doc said, smiling sympathetically. Well that sure got even more awkward. Donut opened his mouth to continue his sentence, but was swiftly cut off by the sound of a certain aqua soldier’s voice.

“Two years? How come I’m just hearing about this now? I thought it would have been longer.” Tucker said smugly, tucking thirty bucks into his wallet. He was flanked by Wash, who was failing miserably at suppressing a smile.

“Well, before he continues teasing you, I’d just like to say that I for one am very happy for the both of you. And again, to you as well, Donut. Doc.” Washington gestured kindly. Simmons smiled back at him, thankful that at least one of their friends wasn’t going to make a huge deal out of this. 

“So you were _betting_ on us, Tucker?” Grif asked, unable to hide his amusement. Simmons noticed and gave him a stern look, but Grif just shrugged. 

Neither of them had expected that they’d be getting loads of praise and congratulations from their friends and acquaintances at their _friends’_ wedding, but it wasn’t so bad. It was actually a lot nicer to not hide it anymore, and thankful they didn’t receive any real negative response to their little announcement, the closest being Sarge threatening to shoot Grif if he dared step out of line with his second in command. But Grif wasn’t worried, and neither was Simmons. Instead, they suddenly got a whole lot more comfortable thinking of wedding plans of their own on the car ride back to their shared apartment. Maybe it would be half as good as the night they’d just had.


	9. Ditch and Makeout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a take of what happened in the shade for two hours. Because everyone's done one of these and I am very late on the bandwagon.

Grif was driving way too fast, Simmons' yelling was easily getting lost in the wind despite him being in the seat right next to him. He hardly even noticed that they were careening to the left until it was too late. The car was almost on its side as they aimed straight for a huge boulder. Simmons braced for impact, tears welling in his eyes as he embraced the fact that he was going to die, and he was going to go out speeding in a Warthog in the middle of nowhere, lost in the future, next to a man he was deeply in love with but was too much of a coward to ever admit it to anyone but himself. 

Simmons' eyes stayed screwed shut even after the at had stopped moving. He hadn't _felt_ the car collide with the rock, just a short dip, a drop, and then they were stopped. The car even seemed to be right side up. Was he dead?

Simmons opened his eyes, only to find that they had landed in a ditch. Grif was clutching the steering wheel for dear life, his foot jammed as far down as possible on the brake pedal. His automatic assessment of his teammate's vitals showed that his heart rate and breathing were both at a very fast pace. He looked ahead to see that they really weren't far from the boulder, and if the Warthog hadn't stopped when it had, they'd be flattened against the unforgiving rock wall that sat in front of them. 

He threw himself back against the seat and tugged his helmet off his head to breathe better. Sweat dropped down his face and his short ginger bangs clung to his forehead. His face was incredibly flushed and it made his freckles stand out in stark contrast. He was breathing hard and had clearly been panicking, to be fair, Grif had been too. A strange calm fell over him though, as he observed his teammate in his current state. It honestly almost looked like... Oh god why was he thinking about that here, now, when Simmons was _right_ there. He shook his head and pulled the keys out of the ignition, hopping out of the Warthog to clear his head and to try to push the car out of the ditch. 

Simmons got out too, stretching his arms and legs before joining Grif at the hood of the vehicle and helping him push it backwards. The thing didn't budge. 

"Rrrrrgh, Grif please, never ever drive like that again." Simmons huffed as he leaned against the car with every fiber in his being, pushing it with as much strength as he could muster. 

"Yeah that's fair. I won't promise anything, but you do have a point." Grif admitted, gesturing to their current attempt at moving the extremely heavy car. Simmons just grunted as he put all his muscle into the process. Mechanical enhancements weren't helping this situation, unfortunately. Grif gritted his teeth and tried again.

Three minutes later, they gave up. Grif just dropped to the ground and shucked off his helmet.

"At least it's shady." he said quietly, lying contently in the grass and dirt. Simmons climbed into the car and switched on the radio, tuning it into a station that was playing calm acoustic guitar music. Probably an indie station. He got back out and lowered himself to the ground with Grif, cracking his back before settling himself down, an unsure look on his face.

"We should try again soon." He said. Grif shot him a look.

"Dude, no way. We just went through that stupid time travel explosion and all that other teleportation nonsense. I think we've earned ourselves a break." Grif argued. Simmons wanted to argue, he really did, but he realized there wasn't really anything they could do as it stood. The car was stuck, they'd have to _walk_ back to where the others were, and it was hot and desolate, and they were lost in the future! A break wasn't really so bad of an idea. So instead of retaliating, Simmons shut his eyes and rested his hands behind his head.

"Okay." was all he said. When he peeked at Grif, the man looked very pleased with himself. Simmons smiled and shut his eyes again.

Simmons was half asleep when Grif sat up and startled him.

"Ugh, dude I'm bored." Grif complained. He propped himself up on his palms and stared up at the tree overhead of them. Simmons opened his human eye and looked at him. 

"I almost managed to fall asleep." Simmons responded flatly.

"We should do something." Grif suggested, ignoring Simmons' irritated tone. 

"Well we already tried recreating that scene from Dukes of Hazzard, that's what landed us here. In the ditch." Simmons replied unhelpfully. Grif snorted and smiled.

"It was worth it, I think. Those explosions were damn cool. And so was the 'getaway' driving. Or, at least until the car almost tipped and fell in." Grif reminisced. Simmons had to admit, it was really cool. Seeing Grif's face light up the way it had definitely made it worthwhile. His eyes had that same excited gleam now, and Simmons was quite fond of that expression, no matter how rare of an occurrence. 

"Why are you making that face?" Simmons asked with a curious edge to his voice. Grif glanced at him and a his cheeks flushed pink ever so slightly. Simmons cocked an eyebrow and sat up.

"Well I had an idea... but I don't know how you'll feel about it exactly." Grif responded almost shyly. Simmons was lost already.

"Oh come on, whatever it is has gotta be better than just laying here." Simmons responded, shrugging. Grif thought for a moment, and nodded his head. 

"Okay, yeah. Here goes then..." He began. He scooted closer to Simmons and gently grabbed his hand. Simmons' cheeks flushed brightly, and his eyes widened a little. What was Grif doing? He leaned in a little closer to Simmons' face.

"Simmons... can I- oh god this is so stupid." Grif laughed nervously at himself. Simmons could hardly breath.

"Can I kiss you?" He finished. Simmons almost passed out. Grif waited as Simmons stared blankly at Grif, trying to process those words, those words coming from Grif. 

"Oh god. I fucked up I'm sorry dude, I... I'll leave you alone." Grif panicked taking Simmons' emotionless stare if shock and surprise as a bad sign. Grif quickly got up, dropping his hand and clambering into the front seat of the Warthog. Simmons shook his head vigorously and stood up himself. He took a deep breath, one that didn't help the blush reddening his face, and walked up to the driver’s side of the car.

"Wait, Grif- You didn't fuck up I, you...." Simmons stammered. Grif gave him the same disappointed stare, but there was hope in there somewhere. 

"Yes." Simmons answered. Grif raised his eyebrow, not understanding. Simmons smiled and laughed at himself before explaining.

"Yes, you can.... you can kiss me." Simmons chuckled nervously. 

"Oh." Grif blushed, a smile on his lips. He leaned down closer to Simmons hesitantly, and Simmons, although he was already tall, stood up on his toes, a rush of excitement pulsing through him as Grif’s lips brushed against his. It was soft, and Grif’s breath carried the scent of sugar with a hint of cigarette smoke, which wasn’t the entirely worst thing he had smelled. Simmons breath caught in his throat when Grif’s tongue flicked across his bottom lip, and he involuntarily shot his head back.

“Oops.” Grif grinned. Simmons snorted.

“Here, I’ve got an idea.” Simmons said, climbing inside the car himself, He tried to sit in the same seat as grif, but that plan was suddenly reworked when Grif pulled him down into his lap instead. Simmons was hesitant, but he swung his legs over to be more comfortable, now straddling Grif in full armor. As Simmons leaned in to kiss Grif again, Grif reached behind them and turned up the stereo. Simmons was entranced with the romantic song and the enticement of Grif’s face. He dove right back in, lips against lips, and he was more than ready this time when Grif tried to deepen the kiss. He opened his mouth, moving his head along with Grif’s as they explored each other’s mouths. 

Simmons’ gloved hand found it’s way into Grif’s hair. He laced his fingers in tight and gave a gentle tug that sent stars into Grif’s vision.

“Woah, Simmons.”Grif breathed, eyes wide in awe and arousal. Simmons blushed, feeling his whole face go red when Grif gave him that look.

“Should we…” Grif gestured to their codpieces. 

“Let’s not… do that. Not here.” Simmons fretted.

“Alright, just making out then?” Grif asked, sounding content enough with their current endeavor. Simmons nodded. Grif smiled and coaxed him back into the kiss. They continued like this, face locked for another seven minutes. Until the car started beeping, and the radio shut off. Suddenly it was quiet. Simmons slowly backed away from Grif to scan the car.

“Dude, the Warthog just died.” Simmons stated. 

“Uh oh.” Grif grimaced, looking past Simmons at the path back to the ruins they had holed themselves up in for shelter.

It was going to be a long walk back.


	10. The Moment He Fell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This post is one of my all time favorites, it inspired me to write a little something. http://duckaesthetic.tumblr.com/post/155997021122/agentlooziana-if-grifs-laugh-is-anything-like

Grif wasn’t the biggest asshole Simmons had ever met, but goddamn, spending months with this guy got to be really tiring. They had spent all of basic together so far, Simmons spent most of the time during days trying to ignore him and focus on his training and orders, but at night, he wasn’t under as much obligation. Grif had convinced him on several occasions to sneak out of the base and hang out with him. And so they had. Simmons found these nights to be his favorites, hanging out on the roof with his new friend. Did Grif consider him a friend? He hoped so. 

This was one of those nights, it was almost sundown and Grif had managed to get his hands on a couple of beers. Simmons didn’t even bother to ask where he got them, he knew if he thought about it anymore, he’d just end up getting pissed off about how against regulations and protocol it was. Not that he was in any position to speak, he was after all up on the roof after hours with Grif, sharing in his contraband. Instead, Simmons accepted the drink, used a thin edge on his armor to pop the cap off the bottle, and took a swig, resting an arm behind him. Grif leaned back on his elbow and took a long swig, clearly savoring the taste of alcohol. They both sighed at roughly the same time, thankful for the moment of peace and relaxation, though the anxiety of getting caught out of the base, and not to mention helmetless, was nagging at the back of Simmons mind. He pushed it back, reminding himself that there was no patrol and that they hadn’t been caught doing this the last seven times they had done it. This time would likely be no different. 

The sky was an array of beautiful colors, clouds glowing salmon against the light of the setting sun. Yellow faded into orange, which faded into pink, which faded into violet. They could see both of the planet’s moons by this point, and it made for a brilliant view. 

“It’s so nice out tonight.” Simmons commented. Grif just nodded his head.

“Reminds me of home, we had sunsets like this all the time, and it was wonderful just to sit on the beach and watch.” Grif reminisced. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost feel the sand under his toes and hear the waves crashing against the shoreline. It was so peaceful.

“When you talk about Hawaii… You make it sound so beautiful. I’d love to see it someday.” Simmons admitted quietly. Grif smiled.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to show you around.” He offered. The suggestion made Simmons heart race, but he couldn’t put a finger on why.

“So I guess it’s a date then.” Simmons replied. Grif snorted and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Grif said. Simmons smiled and leaned back. He accidentally smacked his elbow down, landing on the edge of the bottle cap. It ricocheted off of his bottle and hit him in the face.

“OW!” Simmons cried, rubbing the spot under his eye where the cap had impacted. A laugh burst out next to him. He looked over at Grif who couldn’t contain the giggles that were bubbling out. His laugh was loud, full, and hearty. Simmons didn’t even catch the fact that he was staring at Grif in awe, cheeks flushed and wide eyed, until he registered the thundering heartbeat ringing in his ears. He looked away, realizing in only a moment that Grif’s laugh was probably the most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his life.

Oh.

Oh no.

He was either going to kill Grif, or himself. Maybe both. He’d never get that damn noise out of his head.


	11. Merely a Phantom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grif visits Simmons in the hospital one final time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY, i just woke up from this really sad dream about almost exactly this and i just had to write it down, i woke up crying and just couldn't go back to sleep without getting this down. also i'm probably gonna go back and edit this on the computer tomorrow seeing as i wrote this chapter entirely on my phone.

Simmons awoke in the hospital, the scratchy hospital gown and weird rubbery mattress letting him know that long before he had the will to open his eyes. He tried to sit up, a sharp pain in his abdomen halting his actions. His palm pressed gently against the injury, felt like a broken rib. He made a small pained noise, laying himself back down. He was just about to try and go back to sleep, when he heard footsteps. His eyes flicked to the source, expecting to see Dr. Grey, but oddly enough, there was no one. He raised an eyebrow, but figured maybe he was just anxious about being in a hospital. After waiting another few moments and hearing nothing, he decided it was just his imagination and shut his eyes, slumping back against the limp pillow. 

He was awoken minutes later to the feeling of a hand pressing down of his bare forearm. Okay, there was no way he imagined that. His eyes snapped open, only to find Grif. He sighed and gave him a soft smile, comforted that his friend seemed to be alright enough to check in on him. He reached for his hand, while his mechanical one went to his face to run the bleariness from his eyes. But his hand went right through, and no amount of rubbing would make Grif look like a solid human form, the faint orange glow he seemed to be giving off was impossible to miss. His breath hitched in confusion and disbelief, and Grif gave him a sympathetic look.

"Simmons, I-" Grif started, hand unmoving, its familiar warmth and heaviness against his skin unmistakable, but so unbelievably out of place. He hadn't noticed the hot tears streaming down his face until he was shaking.

"Grif... How did this happen?" He choked out, a quiet sob passing his lips. Grif's grip on his forearm tightened comfortingly.

"At Temple's stupid base on earth... He shot me point blank, I managed to stay alive on the way to the hospital but... we'll, you can see how that worked out." he chuckled, gesturing to his vaguely translucent body. Simmons choked back another sob, and Grif realized maybe humor wasn't a great idea in this situation. 

"Th-this is impossible. Ghosts aren't real, you guys are just playing some stupid trick on me, right? Or i'm hallucinating!" Simmons tried, the halfhearted "logical" explanation clearly not the one he was believing at the moment. Grif shook his head solemnly. Simmons sat up, slowly, despite his pain, head in his hands as sobs wracked through his body violently. He leaned into Grif's ghostly form as he cried openly.

"You can't be dead, you just can't." He whimpered. Something in Grif shifted, a sad energy rushing through him in a cold spreading shiver. He wrapped himself around Simmons, hoping he could feel it. 

"I'm so sorry, Simmons." 

Simmons leaned back a little, wiping the tears off his face with the scratchy blanket, still shaking and sniffling as he tried to quell the tears.

"Don't you say that, don't you dare say that. You're not the one who should be sorry. No, Grif, _I'm_ Sorry. And I'm sorry it took... this. It took you dying for me to say that to you. You deserve so much better than the way we- I treated you." Simmons explained. His chest heaved, tears pricking at his eyes again. 

"I forgive you." Grif responded, the fond tone in his voice unmistakable. Simmons leaned into him again, and Grif gently slid a hand under his chin. Simmons let Grif tilt his head up until they were staring directly into each other's eyes. Tears rolled silently down his cheeks, his hands shaking and his breathing deep and calculated as he opened his mouth once more.

"Grif... I love you." He finally confessed, his hands grasping onto the phantom arm gently, surprised to find it solid enough to grab. He leaned into Grif's gentle caress as he spoke.

"I know." Grif replied, the unmistakable sound of crying behind his words. Simmons felt tears splash onto his skin, but they left no wetness behind. When he looked up, Grif was gone, and he was left alone to mourn in his shitty hospital bed, the feeling of warmth, of Grif holding him, fading fast. He tried to open his mouth, but no sound came out aside from a strangled cry, stifled by his own tears. 

Grif was gone.


End file.
